


Diary of Wilson P. Higgsbury

by GeneralGeryuganshoop



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Diary/Journal, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 18:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralGeryuganshoop/pseuds/GeneralGeryuganshoop
Summary: Log date: 1-7-01





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love DST and I've come to notice the fandom is relatively small. Won't stop me from writing thisstory when I feel like it though.

Log date: 1-7-01

Greetings. My name is Wilson Percival Higgsbury, and I am an amateur scientist trapped within a wilderness world known as the Constant. Dubbed so by myself, of course.

I find myself going increasingly, for lack of a better word, crazy the longer I stay here. I see things that aren’t there, and despite having recently discovered how to make a nice bedroll out of straw, I find myself unable to sleep due to these disturbing “shadow creatures” that I often see sulking around the edge of my vision. I’ve decided to use some traditional methods described often as a means of keeping oneself sane. I’ve taken to using a schedule of the optimal time to gather resources, and I’ve begun writing in this journal. I pray they will do me some good in the long run.

1-10-01

Today was particularly interesting, as I encountered something new. A buffalo-like creature, but with quite different horns, and a much larger appetite.

Indeed, it seemed as though for the entire time I was observing them they only stopped grazing when I got too close, at which point they carefully eyed me, as though I intended to steal their food. Fortunately for them, as hungry as I may be at times, grass is never on the menu. I managed to gather some amount of manure samples, which might allow me to construct a small farm. Perhaps investing some time in agriculture could be an asset to me.

As I finish this entry I am noticing what sounds like a distant howl that is rapidly approaching. I will take up the spear I managed to cobble together and prepare myself for a fight. Perhaps I can use some ropes and wood to make some form of armor.

The howling is getting closer now. Should I happen to survive, whatever survivor may be reading this, I will inform yo

_ A line of ink trails to the bottom of the page, as though the book was hastily thrown aside. _


	2. Chapter 2: Willow

Log Date 1-12-01

I apologize for my sudden departure during my last entry, however i have a completely fair excuse. I was attacked by almost certainly rabid dogs. However, there were a set of guaranteed positives that came alongside this.

I discovered how to make traps from the teeth of said hounds and I was able to use whatever meat I could scavenge from them alongside some carrots and sticks to make some kabobs. Far from filling, but a welcome change from the constant cooked berries.

And the revelation that I am not alone. In the middle of the fight a woman with pure white eyes and hair done in curled pigtails wandered into the clearing fighting two hounds of her own. Together we made quick work of them, and I did the gentlemanly thing, inviting her to my campsite for thank you meal. Apparently, she believed that I intended to do unspeakable things however, and promptly slapped me.

Upon explaining myself, she was apologetic, but I’ve made a mental note to be wary, as that slap seemed to leave a slight burn mark on my face.

She says her name is Willow, and she proclaims that she was also brought here by the inscrutable Maxwell. She also proclaims that she intends to “punch his lights out” if we ever see him. Knowing my bias, I don’t know whether to fear for Maxwell or root for Willow.

1-15-01

Upon a few days of living alongside Willow I’ve noticed something odd about her.

She’s completely obsessed with flames.

I’ve often seen her flickering her lighter even when unnecessary, and noticed her standing much closer to the fire pit than I could bear to do without even seeming to overheat.

I also must wonder if this will be a problem in the near future.

Or even far future.

Or anytime really.

1-16-01

Upon seeing her run directly into a burning forest and come out without so much as ash on her, I can definitely say this won’t be an issue for now. Of course, her habit of starting fires may end up one rather soon.


	3. Webber

1-18-01

Day eighteen of my living in the constant and I feel like I’m finally beginning to understand the way this realm works.

Strangely, my pockets have much more room than what would be considered normal, and though there is a limit, I can carry nuggets of gold the size of my fists and not feel the weight in the slightest. Quite useful for mobility if I do say so myself.

Today I’ve made it a goal to go invade and kill some of the spiders in the den nearby. Though the meat won’t be quite so useful without some other ingredients to nullify the toxicity, I’m sure it will last the day or so needed for the vegetables I’ve planted to grow. Hmm. I wonder if putting it in the crockpot with some roasted berries will do anything. Just another idea to test.

1-19-01

I have discovered two things in the wake of my journey to the dens. Apparently, the magic of the constant makes me an excellent weaver, as I’ve managed to craft a silk top hat with no guides or anything of the sort.

And Willow absolutely despises spiders.

She attacked them with almost unnecessary ferocity, ripping them apart much quicker than I could. However, one of my spiders dropped a fascinating thing. A human skull with spider legs.

Despite Willow’s protests, I believe I’ll make my way to the nearby graveyard to bury the thing. It seems almost disrespectful to the poor fellow to keep his head lying around.   
1-20-01

Apologies, I’ve been too busy with what I discovered yesterday to write about it. Burying the skull yielded an interesting result, a horde of spiders which I was forced to destroy, and a young child in the body of a spider.

He seems quite polite. I hope we get along well in the end. Lord knows I have no idea how to talk to anyone outside my age range.


End file.
